Streetlife
by BearChild
Summary: Devastated by what he sees as his own abandonment of Rose, the Doctor finds himself on the streets, hurt and alone, trying to find a way back to her. Slight Ten/Rose
1. Chapter 1

Devastated at what he sees as his own abandonment of Rose, the Doctor finds himself on the streets, hurt and alone, trying to find a way back. Slight Ten/Rose.

A/N: _Allons-y!_

**Chapter 1.**

She found him huddled in the corner of some doorway in the early hours of a Sunday morning, trying to keep out the rain and the cold with nothing more than a sodden coat to shield him. His hair was plastered to his face and water ran in rivulets down his face, the shivers silently racking his thin frame. Just one more lost soul.

"How long have you been here?" she asked, kneeling down in front of him slowly so as not to scare him off. He barely even glanced at her before the reply came, the wind taking it so it could only just be heard.

"Rose isn't here yet, so not l-long enough."

"Too long if you ask me," she replied, putting the bottle that had been keeping her warm inside down on the pavement, vowing to come back for it tomorrow. The man needed help, and there wasn't exactly a queue to help others around these parts. She silently moved in and took his arm, trying to pull him up and out of the doorway.

"No, I can't leave, what if she comes? What if the T-Tardis arrives and she steps out and I'm not here? She might n-need me. No, I'm f-f-fine; I'll just s-stay here. I'm fine." His attempts to convince her, however, were quickly dismissed by the shudders in his voice and the tremors forcing their way through his shoulders.

"Look, you're sodden. Stay out in this any longer and you'll freeze to death before the night is through. I'm sure whoever you're waiting for will still be coming in the morning, but you'll be no use to them at all if you don't come in and get warmed up."

His eyes seemed to give in even if his body didn't, and she pulled him up silently before his legs seemed to give way and he collapsed onto her in a heap.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Bit close for a f-first meeting. Particularly for me."

"S'all right, lean on me if you need to. C'mon, let's get you inside and warmed up a bit." She gave a sidelong glance to his left leg, which, on closer inspection seemed to be coated in blood from the knee up.

"I take it that's yours by the limping?" she asked, referring to the blood. His silence told her all she needed to know. "I'm Lisa, by the way."

"The Doctor. Where are w-we going?"

"Little place I've got going. Nothing special, just a place to keep warm on nights like this, and for a bit of safety. Security in numbers. You know the score."

"You're on the s-streets?" compassion seemed to flow through his voice. He must be new around here.

"Course. Aren't you?"

"Tonight perhaps. I d-don't really know after that. I might be homeless after all." The despair that swiftly turned the tone of the night was scarcely hidden, but it was new, like he was only realising it for the first time. The sudden change in the atmosphere scared her slightly.

"Well, tonight you're here with us," she continued, trying to lighten his mood against the depression he suddenly seemed to have fallen into. "Come on, down here." She half-carried him down a ramp, wincing as the shivering continued and she felt his leg muscles contracting in pain at the downhill slope. Passing through a narrow underground passageway covered in graffiti tags, she came to the door at the end and stepped through it into the abandoned concrete storehouse that had become home to her and a few others in recent days.

Lowering the man on her arm gently down against the far wall, she quickly and silently woke up Jake, his dentistry qualification being the closest thing their group had to any medical training, before grabbing all the spare blankets she could muster.

Jake, half asleep, came over and began to examine him closely, only to be met by muffled protests from the Doctor.

"I c-can do it. I'm okay, really." He raised a shaking hand to try and examine his own leg closely under the light of a little lamp.

"Clearly you're not mate, so just sit there and take it for a bit." Jake's voice sounded almost angry, and the Doctor wondered what he had done to deserve his wrath so early after meeting the man.

Five minutes, and a fair bit of groaning, prodding and pushing away of hands later, Jake finished his examination under the close eye of his patient.

"Should we take him to hospital?" Lisa asked, concerned.

"No. I'm not going, it's just a scratch," was the Doctor's quick, almost angry refute. "I j-just need to get warmed up, and a couple of stitches, that's all."

"And to get back to waiting for Rose, yes?" Lisa grunted under her breath. "Mmm." She seemed to know his mind better then even he did right now.

Once again, Jake's eyes pierced the Doctor's own, the rage floating at the surface doing nothing to calm his already fraying nerves.

"You need a hospital," Jake said outright. "You're almost hypothermic, God knows how long you've been out there, and we've got nothing here apart from a few spare blankets and a fire drum that won't light. On top of that, you've already admitted you need a dozen stitches in your leg and probably something for the pain when you warm up and are actually able to feel something."

"I'm n-not going to a hospital, all right and that's final," the Doctor argued, needing to convince them. When they stared at him like he was not in his right mind, he grabbed hold of the wall he was leaning against and pulled himself upright, attempting to walk back to the alleyway where he had come from. He got all of two steps before his leg gave way under him and he fell in a pathetic heap on the ground again.

"Okay, m-maybe not," he got in before Lisa took pity on him and helped him back to the wall he'd been leaning against. "L-Look," he pleaded, "have you got anything that can b-be used as a suture around this place? Thread, string, anything that's clean and s-strong?"

"Not here, no, but in the morning I can probably find some around. Why?"

"And a mirror of s-some s-sort?"

"Yes, I've got one over her somewhere." Lisa went and rummaged in a measly pile of belongings for a few seconds before pulling out a filthy shard of mirror and bringing it back.

"Good, then there's no need to go to a h-hospital. When it's daylight, you can go and get the sutures and then I c-can sew myself back together. Good as new."

Lisa just stared at him like he was the blob from outer space in a 50's flick, which had lost what little of its mind it'd had when it landed.

She probably wasn't too far off.

"Firstly," she protested, "have you ever actually had any medical training? Putting stitches in your own leg isn't exactly something that I would advise doing. Secondly, I can tell you're still as cold as when I brought you here by the fact that even now you're shaking as much as a kid who's coming down off too many E numbers-"

"Look, Lisa was it? Thankyou for your c-concern, but my medical experience stretches back a long way and putting in a f-few stitches is by no means the hardest thing I've had to do. Also, I'm n-not as cold as you think I am, and even though it is q-q-quite nippy out there, I'll be fine in a few hours if I rest for a bit. Trust me."

"What about painkillers?" Jake asked, satisfied that he'd seen the apparent flaw in his plan. "Putting stitches in is one thing, doing it without anaesthetic is quite another."

The Doctor sighed at the thought of something to ease the agony that was coursing through his body right now and that he knew would worsen when he warmed up, but quickly pushed the thought back down as soon as it arrived. No need to get attached when it would inevitably only lead to more pain.

"I couldn't have anaesthetic even if I did go to hospital. I'm highly allergic to just about every type going around, and that's including a few that haven't quite made it into public use yet."

There was silence as both Lisa and Jake looked at each other and digested the information they'd been given by the peculiar man who sat in a heap in front of them. Lisa in particular was sceptical, not really believing that the obviously injured Doctor didn't need to go to a proper hospital. Besides, who ever trusted _anyone_ who said 'trust me'?

"Okay," she gave in after a few moments. "But you and your leg are staying here for the night where I can keep an eye on you, all right? We'll see how you're going in the morning and if you're any worse, any worse _at all, _we're going straight to the nearest hospital? You hear me?"

"Oh yes. Loud and clear, ma'am." The Doctor gave her the smile to melt all and managed to raise a hand for a one-figured salute, silently thanking her before settling in for the night against the wall and concentrating on getting the blood flowing through his body again.

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because he woke up abruptly, jumping at the hot touch of a hand on his forehead.

"Shh, s'all right. Calm down now," Lisa hushed as he peeled himself off the concrete wall he had tried to force himself into at her touch. "I'm just checking your temperature. Don't want you falling into a coma on me, okay?"

His breathing calmed at her words, grateful for the soothing tones. He wasn't entirely sure why he was so anxious in the first place as he looked around and rubbed his head from where he'd struck it on the wall, trying to remember.

"Where am I?" he asked, his voice thick with both sleepiness and the pain that was coursing through his defrosting body.

"Somewhere safe. Nothing down here to hurt you, unless you count Jake's snoring. Do you remember why you're here?"

The Doctor looked at her, then down at his own left leg as fragments of a few hours ago came back to him. He took in the blood soaking through his pants, before pressing his hand against the wound and wincing, catching his breath as pain roared down his whole leg and up into his chest.

Lisa obviously noticed the barely hidden pain in his expression. "Hey, take it easy, don't press so hard. You'll just make things worse and the way you are right now, that's definitely not a good thing." Lisa took in his whole appearance before once again pressing her hand to his forehead to check his temperature, trying to convince herself that leaving him to rest here was the right thing to do. "Well at least you seem to be warming up slightly, though from what I can tell your temperature's still way below what it should be."

The Doctor just shrugged off her concern. "What time is it?"

"About six thirty. The sun's not up yet though I don't think, so we can't do anything about that leg. Come on, I'm sorry to wake you, try and get a bit more sleep under your belt. You look like you need it."

And despite everything, that's exactly what the Doctor did.

A/N: The name's a working title, so it's a bit crap. Any suggestions? And reviews are brilliant they are, and would be much appreciated, especially cos this is the first story I've written in over a year.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Okay, I forgot the disclaimer before. I don't own it, and if you think I'm RTD, or even Steven Moffat sitting here secretly writing fan fiction because I got bored of writing the real series, then I think you're mad.

'Streetlife' it is! Geez, I took some convincing…(I admit, I changed the name at the last minute and forgot to change the A/N). Thankyou so much to everyone who reviewed, every one of those comments made my night, and the fact that you're thinking about what is coming next is one of the greatest compliments you could give. Now I just have to live up to your expectations and find those answers, cos they've changed slightly since I came up with the idea… Also, there's a one-line reference to the Torchwood episode _Adam _here, cos I was watching it just before writing that bit and it sprung to mind. It's fairly obvious, I think, if you've seen the episode.

_Allons-y tout le monde!_

_********  
_

**Chapter 2. **

When the Doctor next woke, it was well and truly light as the early sunshine came rushing through the broken and grimy glass windows. He struggled awake against the pain now coursing through his leg and up into his chest, failing to suppress a groan.

Lisa was on him in seconds, pushing his sweat coated hair from his forehead and muttering soothingly.

"S'all right, love, just stay with me. Come on, that's it, I want to see those eyes open for a bit."

He blinked his eyes open for a few seconds, managing only a quick "hi" before they slipped closed again.

"Stupid question, but how're you feeling?" Lisa asked quietly.

"Oh, you know...ticketyboo."

There was a slight pause as she gave a sudden chuckle and he considered what he'd just said.

"Oh, I really am sick. Ticketyboo?"

"Yeah, maybe not. Jake?" At her call the young man from last night hurried over.

"How're you feeling?" he asked, pushing a hand onto the Doctor's forehead as he knelt down.

"Ticketyboo, apparently," Lisa answered.

"Headache, nausea, any pins and needles?" Jake asked, ignoring Lisa.

"Bit of headache, but I expected that. It'd arrived before I got here."

"You'd made a mess of your leg before you got here too, doesn't mean I can ignore it," Jake answered. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Um, three I think."

"I think?" Jake questioned, his eyebrows raised.

"Three. Definitely."

"Okay, what day is it?"

"Come on Jake, even I don't know that," Lisa rebuked.

"Month then."

"Ah… it's kinda cold. I'd say November, Decemberish?"

"Year?" Jake asked, becoming slightly more concerned for his patient's health with each question he asked.

"Uhh…" there was a pause as the Doctor took in any details of his surroundings that would give him a clue. "Sorry, no idea. What year is it?"

"2006, love. December. It's Christmas next week." Lisa answered, a sad smile on her face like she was remembering better times.

"Right. He needs a hospital. Now," Jake muttered. His hands swiftly began to move through the Doctor's hair and over his scalp, now checking for any raised bumps that would indicate a concussion to explain the confused answers.

"No. I'm not going," the Doctor insisted, suddenly tensing up once more and pushing himself away from them as far as he could. "I've already told you, I can't. You force me there and I'll end up a lot worse than I am now."

"I know you're afraid, love," Lisa soothed, "but whatever happened there before that scares you won't happen this time. I'll be there and I won't let it, I promise. I'll look after you."

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

"You still need to go," muttered Jake, before finally looking the Doctor in the eye. What the Doctor saw made him visibly flinch.

The anger was once more at the surface, swimming around in the blackness. Not swimming even. Drowning. This man had gone through something terrible to make him like this, and the fact that the Doctor knew he could do very little to help hurt more than the pain in his leg ever could.

"Look," he muttered eventually, tearing his eyes away from such consuming rage. "Just give me that mirror and string and I can fix it myself."

Silence fell as both Lisa and Jake tried to figure out whether to accept his pleas or not.

"Please?"

******

Twenty minutes later, the Doctor twisted round so he could see better in the light shining in rivulets through the windows, highlighting the dust in the air. He held the needle and string in his hand, trying to find the courage to sew his own leg together with packing string that's only form of sanitation had been five minutes in vaguely warm water. It was one thing saying he could do it; it was another to physically piece together the layers of his own skin and sew them up without passing out.

Taking a steadying breath, he placed the shard of mirror on the floor beneath his left leg and stuck the small sewing needle through his skin, hissing as he did so. Slowly, slowly, he pulled tight, blood snail-trailing along his hand and down his forearm as he worked, as well as down the length of his leg and dripping onto the storehouse floor. He worked slowly, mopping up his own blood with his sleeve as he went so he could see, the pain only increasing after the first stitch.

In a way, the pain was his penance for losing Rose. With each stitch he made to his own leg, he felt the agony he had caused by abandoning her raising a notch. His attempts to flee those creatures had still failed to rid him of the pain they brought. Even now, he could not escape. Far from it.

The ache lingered still as he thought of Rose, still stuck in that horror. He had managed to escape from the space station, fear tearing him apart, as bullets rushed past and screams echoed around him.

Leaving Rose there. Alone.

He'd let go of her hand. And it was that more than anything that filled him with shame, with pain and loss. It was more than he could forgive.

Digging the needle hard once more into his own flesh, he barely felt the lone tear that silently ran over his cheek and fell off his chin onto his lap.

*******

"So, what's your name then?" Jake asked as he watched the Doctor finish the neat line of yellow stitches up his leg. He quietly ignored the tear tracks down the other man's face.

The man himself didn't look up at him, but his face was suddenly defensive. "I told you. The Doctor."

"That's a title, not a name."

"Well it'll have to do, cos it's all I've got." He was really not in the mood for an argument. Especially this one.

"What, you have no name? Everyone's got a name. Even the stray dog down the park has a name, the poor mongrel. 'Spot' we call her, cos she looks a bit like the one off the tv show. Yellow with brown."

Silence.

"But not _you_."

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably under Jake's gaze. There was something about the anger this guy held that scared him. It was almost as if he wanted a fight. Craved the violence it would bring.

"Is it some great secret or something? Cos it's got to be something big to hide it from everyone around you doesn't it? Something private, no? Because the thing is, _Doctor, _if we don't even know your _name, _then how can we trust you? Hmm? What can a man be hiding so secretively that his very name is a clue?"

"Leave it Jake, you're not helping. Let him be." Lisa had her eyes shut, and until this moment had at least been pretending to be sound asleep. In fact, she had been listening to the one sided conversation very carefully indeed. It had definitely touched a nerve, despite how hard the Doctor had tried to hide it. He looked if he just wanted to run far away, the question too much for him at the moment, and she couldn't allow that to happen while his leg was in its current state. As much as she wanted to know about this strange man, she couldn't let the conversation continue.

*******

A/N: Did you get the reference? Enjoy it? If so, review and tell me, cos reviews are love. And really, what's the point of life without love?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry for the delay, my only excuse is it's the last week of term, so they pile everything possible on you at once. Seriously though, thankyou all again for your reviews, they mean a lot. I'd say they made my night, but the truth is they just keep coming - I'm still getting these wonderful detailed reviews two weeks later, and your questions are even changing the story details slightly. Now though, I'm off to listen to the footy (Carn the Lions!) and watch the tennis (Carn Lleyton and Sam - the Aussies are actually winning!) before crawling into bed at around 3am.

So, without further ado…

_Allons-y!_

************

**Chapter 3.**

The Doctor sat against the wall in the storehouse, his injured leg stretched out in front of him in an attempt rid it of the cramp that had taken up residence. The other leg was curled in against his chest to keep it out of the way of the leaking roof.

It was once again night, so he heard rather than saw Lisa approach. She stopped in front of him, a bottle of grog in her hand and a grimace on her face.

"Can I sit down?"

The Doctor made no verbal reply, instead shifting a little to make way for a puddle and patting the ground next to where he sat.

She took the offer, wrapping her coat tightly around her as she sat down in a

vain attempt to keep away the bitter cold that had settled in.

"How's the leg?"

"Ah, you know. Getting there. I can just about walk on it now."

"That's good. No need for a hospital after all," she answered, obviously distracted. A soft sigh came from her mouth as she leaned her head back against the wall behind her.

"It's my son's birthday today."

"Yeah? How old?

"Six, he'd be."

"Aha. Good number six." The Doctor fell silent, sensing Lisa needed to talk, not be talked at.

"Sixth birthday's always when I thought I'd get him a bike. You know, old enough to go shooting round the neighbourhood and get grazes on his knees and dirt in his hair. It'd be a green one, dark green not light. Dark was always better as far as Sam was concerned."

"Mm… I agree. Though dark blue was always my favourite. And orange. Colour of the sky."

"Have you ever had kids?" she asked suddenly, turning to look at his face.

"Yes," he answered honestly, after a pause. "A long time ago. Lifetimes." He closed his eyes as images of his own children came floating into his mind from so long ago, each one tearing at his resolve not to think about the past a little more. He saw them riding their own bikes under that burnt orange sky, his oldest scooting around on his own old bike trying to avoid all the bits and pieces that had been stuck on over the years.

"Do you love them? I mean really love them, like if something happened to them it wouldn't just be them that would die?"

"Yes," he whispered softly. "I really do."

"Then why are you not with them?"

The barely hidden accusation hurt more than it should, and the Doctor stiffened and stared hard at the floor. The silence that pressed down on them was stifling, and it was a while before either of them felt able to speak again.

"Sorry," Lisa muttered.

"Don't be." He exhaled the breath he'd been holding, trying to keep his emotions in check. He wondered why this woman seemed to be able to get under his skin so much.

Perhaps it was because her experiences were more like his own than he'd care to admit.

"No, I had no right to ask, and it's not like I can talk anyway. I'm the one sitting here beside you on my son's birthday."

With that, Lisa took a swig from the bottle in her hand and twisted to huddle in on herself.

"Don't. Not tonight." He gestured to the half-empty bottle of cheap wine with a nod of his head.

"Why not? Tonight's no different to any other night. I still can't get them back."

"You will. One day. Maybe your son's birthday's as good a time as any to start. Take the night off and prove to yourself you can do it. Who knows, you might even get a little closer to getting him back."

The woman by his side stared hard and long at the bottle perched in her right hand.

"No, I can't."

"You can, I know you can. Come on… I'll help you. I'll stay with you."

The Doctor held out his hand, willing her to give him the bottle. He knew she could do it, even if she didn't.

Reluctantly, she placed the bottle in his hands, and he quickly slipped it out of sight on his other side. He was determined to help her out any way he could well he was here, and this was the best place he could think of to start.

"So… why'd you end up in this mess?" he asked, gently nudging her shoulder with his own for a reply.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Yeah… it is." He glanced down at the half-empty bottle reluctantly and wondered what had led her to the drinking in the first place. "Just making small talk I suppose."

For a while they just sat in silence. The Doctor stared off at the others on the other side of the storehouse, as they too settled in for the night.

"Lisa?"

"Mm…"

"What about Jake? What happened to him before he ended up here?" he asked, his face sincere.

"What'd you mean?"

"That anger that's always there. All I see when I look at him is anger and hatred and I don't know why. It's like there's nothing there anymore."

There was a long pause as they continued to stare at Jake's curled in figure on the other side of the room, rustling in his sleep.

"I don't know the details, really," Lisa whispered. "He doesn't give much away. Too private I suppose, but that's probably good around here." She sighed quietly. "He had a wife though. She died. And a daughter, about four I think."

"He looks peaceful now. When he's sleeping, I mean. I can't see his eyes."

"He scares me sometimes."

"I know. He scares me too, and I know I can't do anything to help him. Only what I can do in the here and now. Believe me, that scares me."

Lisa stared at him then, trying to work out the man beside her. It was like there was a hidden meaning behind his words that he wanted her to understand, yet he wouldn't give away the details enough that she could work it out.

Work him out.

"I could ask you the same question you know," she said suddenly.

"What?"

"Why'd you end up in a place like this?" The question, although outwardly innocent, seamed to build an immediate wall between them, as his face hardened and he stared off at the opposite wall.

"You know why."

"No, I know how, and not even that really. Don't think I've forgotten the sodden mess I found you in inside that doorway. What I don't know is why you were there in the first place."

The Doctor looked down at his feet. "Does it matter?"

"No, probably not. Only you seem very interested to know how I got here where as I'm not allowed to know anything about you."

The whispered anger in her voice distressed him somewhat. Lisa had been good to him and she was the only friend he had around here. He didn't want to upset her, even if he couldn't tell her everything he wanted to.

He sighed deeply, trying to keep the guilt from resurfacing right now.

"I'm waiting," he finally answered.

"For what?"

"My friend. She was supposed to meet me here but she never turned up. I don't know why."

"And you're still waiting two days later? She must be some friend."

"Oh… you have no idea." The smile that tinged his downcast face and sank deep into his eyes told her all she needed to know.

"Thanks. For tonight," she whispered quietly, leaning her head on his shoulder and using it as a makeshift pillow.

"It was my pleasure."

"No it wasn't. Just… thankyou. I'm sorry for the mess I was in earlier, and I'm sorry I hurt you. No, don't lie, I know I did," she said as he started to protest.

He edge of his mouth came up into a half smile and he pulled her tight as she slipped into sleep against his shoulder.

"Don't be. You helped me, now I return the favour."

*********

He awoke sometime later when it started raining on him through the roof, a stream coming down on his forehead. He jumped a little at the cold that immediately spread through his body as it touched his skin and shivered. But as cold as it was, he didn't move. Lisa was fast asleep on his shoulder and his leg was finally comfortable.

Instead, he stuck his hands in his coat pockets, his eyes sliding shut once again as he listened to the fall of the rain.

It was the first time it had rained since he'd arrived here two days ago and it reminded him of Rose.

He let his thoughts wander to the last time he'd been with her, on the space station, trying to remember every detail. His memory of the event was inevitably hazy, but he could still hear her voice as she tossed up ideas and feel the touch of her hand in his as they ran down that final corridor.

The Old Team, saving the Universe one planet at a time. Only this time they'd failed. He'd failed. Because he was here and she was there and it was his fault. His plan. His fault.

Somewhere he must have known sending the Tardis back to her wasn't going to work, but his panicked mind hadn't quite caught up yet. It had relied on too many variables, he could see that now. The programming on the Tardis had always been a bit wild, why should it start working now?

Why should Rose be saved when everyone else died?

Pushing that thought firmly to the back of his mind, the Doctor thought back further, to just before the space station. They'd been on Earth, back at Jackie's for Christmas, opening presents and laughing at stupid jokes. It had been a long time since he'd celebrated Christmas at all, never mind with family.

It seemed such a long time ago, but it had only been four days. Happiness was only four days away…

He blinked sharply, opening his eyes. No, not four. _Five_. Christmas was five days from now.

Time was relative after all, and maybe, just maybe, Rose hadn't arrived at that doorway for a reason.

And with that thought, he had himself a plan.

*********

A/N: Thanks for reading, review if you enjoyed it!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Douglas Adams had a brilliant quote that I think fits this situation perfectly:

"I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by."

Bugga.

For **Naomitrekkie **and others: to clarify, this event on the space station is completely my own, no reference to either the Gamestation or the Madame de Pompadour. More will be explained later. It's set before _Doomsday, _probably late series 2. Currently in Manchester? Birmingham? But this is my imagination as being an Aussie, I've never been anywhere near. Also, I probably should've chosen a better name for Jake; he's completely unrelated to Pete's World Jake. With that in mind, feel free to imagine all you like… though know that some of you are assuming things that aren't _entirely_ correct.

So…

_Allons-y!_

**Chapter 4.**

When he woke the next morning, the Doctor knew it was time for him to leave. He was awake before the sun came up and had to physically resist the urge to get up and just leave. Everyone around here had offered him an enormous amount of help, especially Lisa, and there was no way he was going to leave without at least a thankyou.

Looking across the room, he gasped slightly as his eyes locked with those of the very much awake Jake, their intense black pools deeper than ever through the darkness.

"Morning Jake," he whispered almost cautiously, trying to pull himself out of those eyes.

The man himself said nothing, his eyes staring only a few moments longer before he pulled himself up and walked towards the warehouse door, stopping only momentarily at the doorway, eyes on the floor in front of him.

"You've seen a lot of death in your time, haven't you Doctor?" he whispered quietly.

The Doctor's breath hitched, but his voice came out almost calm, only just shaking. "How do you know that?"

The reply wasn't immediate, and silence hovered in the air, pressing down, before Jake once again lifted his eyes to the Doctor's.

"Because you must have to forget me."

With that he walked out the door, leaving the Doctor blinking at empty air.

**********

Jake's words still hung in the air, and the Doctor's mind, when the dim morning light finally managed to pierce the grime of the high-up windows.

The urge to run was growing stronger than ever, and he needed to get out. Intending to get up and go for a walk to clear his thoughts before Lisa awoke, he tried to gently prise her off his shoulder, but she was having none of it.

"Where you goin'?" she asked sleepily, when she felt him move.

"S'all right. Go back to sleep."

That woke her up more than anything. Looking him over quickly, she couldn't ignore the tell-tale signs she didn't want to see; the restlessness, the steely determination, the resolve to ignore the pain, both physical and emotional, to get to where he needed to be.

"Leg's still sore, isn't it?"

He didn't answer, trying steadily to ignore the question.

"You should grab some more painkillers before you go, you know. You won't get far otherwise."

That stopped him in his tracks as he realised why he liked Lisa so much. He didn't have to tell her, she just knew.

"I'm sorry, but I have to. I know where I can find Rose, and this is the only chance I'll have to get there."

"I know."

He sighed. "But that doesn't make it any easier does it?"

Crouching next to her as painlessly as he could, the Doctor put a hand on her shoulder and leaned to whisper in her ear.

And as he turned away again and swiftly left forever, a silent tear ran its course down Lisa's pale cheek.

********

Hours later, alone, Lisa replayed once again in her mind what he had whispered.

"I know you think you're not worth much, and that everything that means something is gone. So it probably won't mean much when I say this… but I think you're wrong.

"A lot of people would have left me in that doorway. People who have families, and jobs and mortgages and mothers-in-law from hell. But you cared, and you may not think that means very much, but its just as important, probably more, than those things. You've given me the chance to find the woman I love, and you could give me nothing greater."

"Doctor…"

"No, just listen. No matter what you're facing out here, don't give up. I know you can get back to your family, and I know that Sam wants his mum. You know what you have to do to get there. Now do it."

*******

By half eight, the Doctor was standing in the middle of the tube peak hour throng, trying desperately not to look like he was avoiding the ticket inspectors walking up and down the train. He'd failed miserably at trying to flatten down his wild hair, and was now attempting to straighten his tie enough that he would be ignored by the inspectors.

"Pocket, pocket, _pock_ets… come one!" Searching through his pockets furiously for his psychic paper, the Doctor pulled out the sonic and a copy of Jane Eyre before stumbling across a creased copy of the photo he had on his bedside table - Rose and him together in the tropical rainforests on Daintree IV. It wasn't until he looked away and stuffed the photo back deep into his pocket that he remembered he'd given the psychic paper to Rose to use on the space station.

Leaning against the doors, he stared hard at the blackness of the tunnel out the window as his mood plummeted further and desperately tried to ignore the building spots in his vision. If he didn't focus too much, he could almost make the spots become the millions of stars of the night sky.

The stars that had become his second home.

Try as he might though, he couldn't place Kasterborous. There was just empty space where it had once been, and he could no longer remember the exact formation of it, his memory distorting the image in his mind.

"Can I see your ticket please, Sir?"

As the stars slowly vanished back to blurry reflections in the train's window in front of him, the Doctor felt his vision blur and his stomach cramp before everything once more faded to black as he fainted at the ticket inspector's feet.

********

"…needs…next station…"

"…station… called an ambulance…"

" …wrong with him… why did… _geez_… leg…"

Voices, loud, soft, _piercing,_ shouting at him, muttering. Making him more dizzy as he tried to concentrate on the words. Spinning, spinning, _dizzy…_

"…get him… _care_ful… platform… his name?"

"…just collapsed at my…"

"…_uggh_hhh…"

Was that him?

"Sir? Sir, can you hear me?"

"…yeah." He whispered. Why wouldn't they stop yelling?

"Can you open your eyes for me mate?"

Slowly, he peeled his eyes open against the light.

"All right, that's good, well done. You're all right, but we need to find out why you collapsed, okay?

The Doctor nodded, finding it hard to concentrate. He tried to drag his hand up to hold his throbbing forehead, but it was grabbed and pulled back to his side.

"Keep your hand there, that's it. I'm just going to give you some oxygen here to make you feel better before we get you out of here…"

A mask was suddenly placed over the Doctor's mouth and nose and he opened his eyes further, looking up to see a young man staring down at him.

"What's your name, mate?" the man asked, still looking at his face but prodding his leg painfully.

"Doctor." He swallowed the word painfully as his stomach rolled.

"I'm a paramedic, I can help, okay? Can you tell me your name?"

Paramedic.

"Can anyone tell me his name?"

The thought ticked over slowly in the Doctor's blank mind, taking several seconds to finally hit its mark.

Paramedic equals hospital.

Hospital.

Suddenly the Doctor was struggling to his feet against a tide of hands trying to keep him from safety, swiping at the oxygen mask pressing on his face. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, trying to push him back down, and shouts rang out for him to calm. But the Doctor was having none of it as he tore himself free and fell onto the wall as his vision blurred, using it to balance himself as he staggered around the corner and into the crowd streaming up towards the station's exit.

He could feel himself panicking against his will and tried to calm down. Pushed by the peak hour throng, he suddenly found himself against the door to the ladies' toilets. Feeling the desire to avoid the wrath of his neighbour when he was sick on their shoes, he quickly pushed the door open and, avoiding the startled looks of the women at the basins, almost fell to his knees in the cubicle.

Five minutes later, no longer feeling woozy, the Doctor leaned miserably against the cubicle door and rubbed his hands over his forehead. He knew exactly why he'd collapsed; he'd almost been expecting it. The Tardis' link was suddenly gone, and the emptiness it left in his mind was disorientating. Time was no longer winding its way through his head, the sensation gone. The only remnants of it were flitters of distant memories, enough to allow him to communicate, and to remember what the vortex was like.

"You right in there?" a woman's voice murmured through the door.

"Um… yeah. Thanks. I'll be out in a sec."

Slowly sliding up the wall, the Doctor opened the door and walked back through the station and out into the midwinter gloom.

********

Points to anyone who can spot the Australian landmark reference.

Review?


End file.
